why am I here

Hervorgehoben

Why am I here?

1.   I don´t know.

2.   Maybe at least to do something. In this world everybody complains about bad people, bad weather, bad politics and the self destruction of mankind. Of course all of it is true but – what can I do about it? Go to demonstrate, go to politics, go to the weather forecast? I´m not a teen anymore so I know I do not change things.

This world is not ruled by politicians, by bankers, by bilderbergs or by god. It is ruled by the static flow of our animal human species, billions and billions of little predators only being able to think about themselves. This is the curse of our conciseness. And the motor of our development. We are like little ants, working on a big thing but nobody knows what thing that is. Some ants even turn the other way around, but who cares? And in the end – who rules the ants?
What is really left from Caesar, Hitler or Einstein? Even Jesus died, as far as I know. So do I lil´ ant really believe I can change something? I´m even older now than Jesus ever got, so what?
Everybody´s life is just a bunch of moments – moments lost in time like tears in the rain.
So I try to keep some of them, for a little while.

3.   Maybe to express myself. I think everybody has that wish to do so. Some people talk, some people sing, some people are uploading weird porn from themselves. Communication is actually a one way ticket, it is all about love me, hate me but, hey, please at least fucking realize me! I´m one of that billion ants. I live for this second and I die soon, so see me. I only can see myself, so if you don´t see me, I´m not here, not even for this second.
So, as uploading weird porn from myself is not really my thing, it sounded like a nice idea to make some sort of a blog in the internet. I can say what I want, show what I want and I don´t even have to look into your eyes. I don´t even know if there are any eyes watching this. This is freedom. And as I don´t go for a wall street career any more, I don´t even have to fear that some future boss is googling me just to tell me that he is never ever hiring a crazy bastard like me.

What am I doing here?

1.   I don´t know.

2.   I don´t have a plan, but I´m planning to show some of my photos, which is a bit of my heart blood. I might write down some things, ideas, stuff that falls out of my mouth before I can swallow it.
And I also will steal things. I´m not that genius and neurotic enough to sit here the whole day producing masterpieces of timeless value. Others did this before, so I might get a collector of some of it, just to keep it a little more in the presence, like some people collect stamps to show the world what wonderful little papers have been created in, let´s say, South-East India, 1932. Well.
To collect things from somewhere is also a kind of expression of yourself (remember?), together the parts will get a whole picture of – what? Me?
Maybe.

As you can see, I will write here mostly in English. Why? Well, first of all I used to sing in a Rock Band and so I am used to use English for it is the language of modern music. And I like it.
Second, it is the international code, not that I am expecting chinese philosophers visiting this site, but it is easy to learn and almost any idiot is able to speak or write it. And at least from my side, my mistakes are not that obvious. So if you find some, keep them and get happy with the feeling that you are a much smarter son of a bitch than I am.
And in the end, talking in a non-native language is also a little hiding yourself. I´m not walking naked in the streets so I also do not go public with all parts of my personality. But
some of it I might not spell in German but I might in English. The real hard stuff I gonna spell in Kiswahili. Next year.

Where do I go to?

So how long will this page exist and how long will I work on it? I guess you are guessing the answer: I don´t know. Maybe I get fanatic about it and I feed it my whole life. Maybe I stop tomorrow. Maybe the internet police will arrest me for using terms out of a book from Raymond Chandler or a movie from Ridley Scott. Maybe my host kicks me out for not paying him anymore or he starts paying me for staying.
Or it will be here for a thousand years. Maybe it is already here since a thousand years.

Do you know the day today?

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fuck you, fuck me

 

since  decades now I am staring at the window

and what do I see?

nothing.

fuck you

fuck me

I am prepared to be

 

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Ich hasse die WM

Millionen armseliger Nationalisten bekommen Orgasmen vor der Glotze oder im Stadion, nur weil 11 Leute, die zufällig aus dem gleichen Land stammen, einen Ball treten. Und das Spiel gewinnen sollen. Ahhh, wie geil!

Zwischen: Wollt Ihr den totalen Krieg? (Goebbels) und

wollt Ihr Weltmeister werden? (O.Kahn) und

wollt Ihr Maoam? (Werbung aus den 70ern)

gibt es keinen Unterschied. Gar keinen. Null.

Dann gibt es natürlich Leute, die sich um diese Idioten einen Scheiss scheren aber the big money wittern. Das ist die FIFA. Deshalb gibt es eine WM.

Der Beweis ist folgendes Foto: Ein FIFA Wichser im 5000$ Anzug mit Regenschirm kickt den Ball vor dem Spiel um heraus zu finden ob der Rasen nach Dauerregen bespielbar ist. (ist er, na klar)

Erinnert übrigens an Monty Pythons ministry of silly walks. By the way. Anyway.

The games must go on

 

fussball

 

 

 

Mein Wunsch fürs nächste Jahrtausend: Keine selfies mehr!

Bitte, bitte, bitte, verschont mich mit eueren bekackten selfies! Ich kann eure pickeligen Teenagerfressen nicht mehr ertragen, genau so wenig wie glatzköpfige Schweinebauchfressen, die mit einem lausigem Smartphone-Weitwinkel-Objektiv ihre jämmerlichen Visagen ins Netz stellen meinen zu müssen.

Ihr seht scheisse aus! Kapiert´s doch einfach. Nur peinlich.

Sobald man das Web aufschlägt grinsen einen die Deppen an. Grausam!!!!

Fucking facebook habe ich gelöscht, so gut wie möglich, die last gen, also vor 2 Jahren, postete wenigstens nur ihr langweiliges Frühstück, jetzt muss man Millionen von Drecksfressen ertragen, die sich vor der Disse, vorm BMW oder vor Mama´s Weihnachts-fucking-baum ablichten. Zum kotzen! Wer zum Teufel will das sehen! Niemand!

Echt. Niemand. Niemand!

Eure Fressen sind dem Rest der Welt scheissegal!

Show your tits, show your cat or show your fucking sunset in purple in Venice Beach or Siberia.

But don´t ever show me your fucking shit-face! If it is nice, I meet you someday and I will love you till the end of times.

If not. Just leave me the fuck alone!

 

 

too bad

Hey, a rat, said the cat, in her head.

(As cats can´t speak)

Got to get the red rat.

(Sorry, there are no red rats.)

Got to make the fat rat dead to get her head.

So the cat heads for the rat.

After she had the head of the fat rat the cat said: sad rat, too bad.

Veröffentlicht unter wtb